All That Matters
by Ani-maniac494
Summary: Sometimes, to keep what is most important to you, you have to give up everything else. Companion piece to Moments of Silence. Dean POV.


Title: All That Matters

Summary: Sometimes, to keep what is most important to you, you have to give up everything else.

Spoilers: Spoilers: There are mentions of events from the Pilot, Something Wicked, and Devil's Trap.

Disclaimer: Mine, mine, all mine! Lol, just kidding. I don't own Supernatural, I am just borrowing the characters. Don't worry, I promise I'll return them… (has fingers crossed behind her back) ;)

A/N: This is a companion piece to my other Supernatural vignette, "Moments of Silence." You don't have to read that one for this to make sense, though many of the same events are mentioned. But, I hope you will read both. :)

A/N2: For anyone who is reading my Star Wars story, "Falling From The Light," please bear with me. :) I am nearly finished with the next chapter, and by the time I post I should be a few chapters ahead so that I can return to posting regularly. I was a bit stuck though, so I wrote this hoping that it would inspire me and get me back on track with "Falling." :)

Thank you so much to my wonderful beta, Darth Mom, the best beta anyone could ask for, who is kind enough to not only look over what I write, but to also let me bounce countless ideas off of her. :)

I hope you enjoy it!

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**All That Matters**

True selflessness is rare. There are many who will only give because of what they will get in return, and many who will surrender something because of the praise they will receive for such an "unselfish" act. But those who will give _anything_ simply out of love, they are almost impossible to find.

Dean had always known that he couldn't be counted among those few, because he wasn't really selfless. He gave, maybe he gave more than anyone realized, but he knew there was one thing he would _never _give up, one thing he selfishly allowed himself to hang onto: his family.

He had decided a long time ago - the night he had watched as his home was devoured by the flames that had taken his mother - that he wasn't going to lose anyone else. He would give everything else he had, sacrifice anything, but not _them._

And so, at the age of four, Dean had made his first sacrifice for his family. He had understood then, in a way he hadn't been able to put into to words, that he would have to give up his childhood.

It was a strange thing for a four-year-old to know, and many would argue that it wasn't possible. After all, how could someone who'd barely even had a chance to live recognize what that meant? But Dean had. He had somehow known that his days of being a child were over. He would have to be there for his Dad, and for Sammy; they needed him.

He had let himself mourn, both for his mom and everything he had lost with her death, honoring their memory with his silence, but he hadn't cried. Tears were for children, and Dean wasn't a child anymore.

A few years later though, he'd realized that maybe he hadn't understood what he was giving up as well as he thought he had, because some part of him had still stubbornly clung to what he'd thought he'd let go of. Anyone who looked at him only noticed a boy with eyes that seemed far older than they should have, but inside, where no one could see it, Dean had still allowed a small piece of himself to simply be a kid.

It was that part of him that had liked watching cartoons with Sammy, and which loved playing sports, not because they quickened his reflexes for the day he would join the hunt with his Dad, but simply because they were _fun. _It was that part of him which had enjoyed the challenge of breaking his previous video game record, and had convinced him that being gone for a few minutes while Sammy slept wouldn't hurt.

It was that part of him that had nearly gotten Sam killed.

And so, Dean had made his second sacrifice: he had let that last, small piece of his innocence die. It was then that he had finally, _really _understood that he couldn't try to hold onto anything. He had to be willing to give up _everything_, or he would lose what was most important to him.

So, although it had hurt in a way he couldn't describe when his Dad had looked at him differently after the Shtriga had come so close to taking Sam away from them, Dean also embraced it, because it was a reminder of a lesson he vowed never to forget.

And he didn't forget it. No matter how much time had passed, he _always _remembered. Maybe that was why, when his high school graduation had approached, and all his teachers and classmates had been filled with excitement for the future, Dean had just felt a hollow kind of ache.

His grades and SAT scores had been good enough to go to college if he'd wanted to, and he'd even had a chance for a scholarship, despite the fact that he had usually ignored his homework, and never studied. But he knew he couldn't leave. His family needed him, _counted_ on him to be there. He knew if he tried to follow his dreams, he would lose those he loved. For Dean, there was really no choice to be made.

He hadn't meant for his Dad to see the letters though, the ones that revealed what his future could have been. And, he wished in a way that his Dad had never found them, because for an instant, Dean had felt a small piece of himself hope that, maybe, just maybe, his Dad would smile, and tell him how proud of him he was. For just a moment, he had longed to hear his Dad say that it was alright to hang on to his goals for the future, that he and Sammy would help him pack his stuff and move it to the college campus in the Fall.

But instead, his Dad had just looked at him with an expression Dean knew all too well, though it was an expression Sammy never let himself see. It was an expression filled with sadness, regret, and the knowledge of what his sons had lost.

Dean had let that last small spark of hope fade away then, because his Dad's expression had been all it took to remind him that his father and brother needed him. And so, he had made his third sacrifice: he had let go of his dreams.

The fourth sacrifice he had made though, was in a way the hardest of all, because he'd had to let go of one of the two people he had given so much for… he'd had to let Sammy go. It had hurt…_badly…_because it felt like Sam had simply taken all Dean had to give, and thrown it back in his face.

A part of Dean had wanted nothing more at that moment than to knock Sam flat on his back, and demand to know what he done to make his brother hate him enough to abandon him. But Dean hadn't allowed himself to speak, hadn't tried to do anything more than stop his family from fighting. He knew that Sam was only able to do this - to leave and pursue his dreams - because Dean himself had done everything he could to make sure that Sam wouldn't have to sacrifice what his big brother had. Sam would get to keep at least _some_ of his innocence, his hopes, his desire for a life outside of hunting.

But, while sacrifice came with a price, _not_ letting go came with its own price, too. And what Dean blamed himself for, what he should have realized, was that _Sam_ was the one who would pay for holding on to his dreams, and he _had_ paid, more than anyone should ever have to.

Dean wished that Sam could have Jessica back, that his little brother could have kept the normal life he'd wanted so badly. But that small, selfish part of Dean, the part that hung on so stubbornly to his hope that one day they could be a _family_ again… that part was just grateful to have his little brother back by his side, even it was only because of Jessica's death.

No, Dean wasn't selfless.

He knew that because another part of him, no matter how much he denied it, held on to other things too. He usually pushed that part deep inside himself, sometimes so far down that he forgot it even existed. But somewhere, the little boy he'd once been still stubbornly clung to life. Somehow, he still dreamed of going to college, possibly to study electronics or maybe even engineering. Somehow, he still wanted to travel, not to find and kill the next supernatural evil, but for no other reason than to see the world. Somehow, he still longed to fall in love and have a family of his own.

But he knew he would never have those things. He couldn't, because in the end, he would only wind up losing them, too. It was easier to give up what _could have been_, then to have what _was,_ ripped away. He had always known though - perhaps even from the moment he'd made the decision to put his dad and his brother before everything else - that by giving up so much, eventually he'd have only one thing left to give: his life.

And maybe, he'd just given that up, too.

Dean sat slumped in the backseat of the Impala, gasping for breath through blood-filled lungs, struggling to stay conscious, and trying to force his eyes to remain open despite the fact that his vision was slowly fading to gray. The world had taken on a sort of surreal quality, as though he weren't quite a part of it anymore.

Alright, so maybe taunting the demon hadn't been his brightest idea, Dean thought hazily, but he'd had to get it away from Sam. He had seen how much the demon's words had hurt his brother, and how they had reaffirmed every thought of self-condemnation and guilt. The demon had known just which buttons to push, which blows to strike to inflict the most damage. Dean had felt that first hand.

"_You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is, they don't need you. Not like you need them."_

It was funny how the truth could hurt so much more than a lie.

And it _was_ true. Sam and his Dad depended on him to be strong, to play peacemaker or referee when they fought, and to be the one to keep them from being completely blinded by their desire for revenge. But beyond that, they didn't need him. They were his purpose, all he had, but just what was he to them? He wasn't sure; they had both left him, hadn't they?

Dean pushed those bitter thoughts away, knowing that they were due mostly to the demon's taunting. He knew that his family loved him, he didn't doubt that, even if they never said it out loud. He just knew that while they loved him, he loved them more. That was why he didn't regret any of the things he'd given up. He had his family, and that was all that mattered.

Dean's thoughts ended as he realized that distantly he could make out the sound of Sam and his dad talking in the front of the Impala… _arguing_, he recognized. He managed to force himself back to awareness enough to understand some of his father's words:

"…killing that demon comes before me, before _everything_."

Somehow, Dean's bleary, unfocused gaze caught Sam's anxious, worry-filled one as his brother checked on him in the rear-view mirror. If he'd had the strength, he would have nodded in agreement with what he saw in Sam's eyes.

"No sir," he heard Sam answer, "not before everything."

Sam said something else after that, but any other words his brother had spoken were suddenly ripped away in a violent collision of screeching metal, glass, and steel.

Dean was too weak to try to brace himself against the force of the crash, and felt the side of his already battered chest slam into the door. His head impacted the metal frame around the window, and then everything went black.

But, before he surrendered his awareness, one last thought echoed in his mind: Sam finally understood. Revenge wasn't worth sacrificing everything for, but _family_ was.

**Fin**

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I hope that you enjoyed it. Please review and let me know what you think. I will answer any reviews I get as long as I have some way to contact you. :)

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494


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